the custom was in thofe times, amongst those of the other players, before fome old plays, but without any particular account of what fort of parts he used to play; and though I have enquired, I could never meet with any further account of him this way, than that the top of his performance was the Ghoft in his own Hamlet. I fhould have been much more pleafed, to have learned from fome certain authority, which was the first play he wrote; it would be without doubt a pleasure to any man, curious in things of this kind, to fee and know what was the firft effay of a fancy like Shakespeare's. Perhaps we are not to look for his beginnings, like thofe of other authors, among their least perfect writings; art had fo little, and nature fo large a fhare in what he did, that, for aught I know, the performances of his youth, as they were the most vigorous, and had the most fire and strength of imagination in them, were the beft. I would not be thought by this to mean, that his fancy was fo loofe and extravagant, as to be independent on the. rule and government of judgment; but that what he thought, was commonly fo great, fo juftly and rightly conceived in itself, that it wanted little or no correction, and was immediately approved by an impartial judgment at the first fight. But though the order of time in which the feveral pieces were written be generally uncertain, yet there are paffages in fome few of them which feem to fix their dates. So the Chorus at the end of the fourth act of Henry the Fifth, by a compliment very handsomely turned to the earl of Effex, fhews the play to have been written when that lord was general for the queen in Ireland: and his elogy upon queen Elizabeth, and her fucceffor king James, in the latter end of his Henry the Eighth,

The highest date of any I can yet find, is Romeo and Juliet in 1590, when the author was 33 years old; and Richard the Second, and Third, in the next year, viz. the 34th of his age.

is a proof of that play's being written after the acceffion of the latter of thofe two princes to the crown of England. Whatever the particular times of his writing were, the people of his age, who began to grow wonderfully fond of diverfions of this kind, could not but be highly pleafed to fee a genius arife amongst them of fo pleafurable, fo rich a vein, and fo plentifully capable of furnishing their favourite entertainments. Befides the advantages of his wit, he was in himself a good-natured man, of great fweetness in his manners, and a molt agreeable companion; fo that it is no wonder, if, with fo many good qualities, he made himfelf acquainted with the beft converfations of thofe times. Queen Elizabeth had feveral of his plays acted before her, and without doubt gave him many gracious marks of her favour: it is that maiden princefs plainly, whom he intends by

A fair veftal, throned by the west.

Midfummer-Night's Dream.

And that whole paffage is a compliment very properly brought in, and very handsomely applied to her. She was fo well pleased with that admirable character of Falftaff, in The Two Parts of Henry the Fourth, that fhe commanded him to continue it for one play more, and to fhew him in love. This is faid to be the occafion of his writing The Merry Wives of Windfor. How well fhe was obeyed, the play itfelf is an admirable proof. Upon this occafion it may not be improper to obferve, that this part of Falstaff is faid to have been written originally under the name of Oldcastle, fome of that family being then remaining, the queen was pleafed to command him to alter it; upon which he made ufe of Falftaff. The prefent

2

* See the Epilogue to Henry the Fourth.

offence

offence was indeed avoided; but I do not know whether the author may not have been fomewhat to blame in his fecond choice, fince it is certain that Sir John Falstaff, who was a knight of the garter, and a lieutenant-general, was a name of diftinguished merit in the wars in France in Henry the Fifth's and Henry the Sixth's times. What grace foever the queen conferred upon him, it was not to her only he owed the fortune which the reputation of his wit made. He had the honour to meet with many great and uncommon marks of favour and friendship from the earl of Southampton, famous in the hiftories of that time for his friendship to the unfortunate earl of Effex. It was to that noble lord that he dedicated his poem of Venus and Adonis. There is one inftance fo fingular in the magnificence of this patron of Shakespeare's, that if I had not been affured that the story was handed down by Sir William D'Avenant, who was probably very well acquainted with his affairs, I should not have ventured to have inferted, that my lord Southampton at one time gave him a thousand pounds, to enable him to go through with a purchase which he heard he had a mind to. A bounty very great, and very rare at any time, and almost equal to that profufe generofity the prefent age has fhewn to French dancers and Italian fingers.

What particular habitude or friendships he contracted with private men, I have not been able to learn, more than that every one, who had a true taste of merit, and could diftinguish men, had generally a juft value and efteem for him. His exceeding candour and good-nature must certainly have inclined all the gentler part of the world to love him, as the power of his wit obliged the men of the moft delicate knowledge and polite learning to admire him.

His acquaintance with Ben Jonfon began with a remarkable piece of humanity and good-nature; Mr. Jonson, who was at that time altogether unknown to

the

the world, had offered one of his plays to the players, in order to have it acted; and the perfons into whose hands it was put, after having turned it carelefly and fupercilioufly over, were juft upon returning it to him with an ill-natured anfwer, that it would be of no service to their company; when Shakespeare luckily caft his eye upon it, and found fomething fo well in it, as to engage him firft to read it through, and afterwards to recommend Mr. Jonfon and his writings to the publick. Jonfon was certainly a very good scholar, and in that had the advantage of Shakespeare; though at the fame time I believe it must be allowed, that what nature gave the latter, was more than a balance for what books had given the former; and the judgment of a great man upon this occafion was, I think, very juft and proper. In a converfation between Sir John Suckling, Sir William D'Avenant, Endymion Porter, Mr. Hales of Eaton, and Ben Jonfon; Sir John Suckling, who was a profeffed admirer of Shakespeare, had undertaken his defence againft Ben Jonfon with fome warmth; Mr. Hales, who had fat ftill for fome time, told them, That if Mr. Shakespeare bad not read the ancients, be bad likewife not stolen any thing from them; and that if be would produce any one topick finely treated by any of them, be would undertake to fhew fomething upon the fame fubject at least as well written by Shakespeare.

The latter part of his life was fpent, as all men of good fenfe will with theirs may be, in eafe, retirement, and the converfation of his friends. He had the good fortune to gather an estate equal to his occafion, and, in that, to his wifh; and is faid to have spent fome years before his death at his native Stratford. His pleafurable wit and good nature engaged him in the acquaintance, and entitled him to the friendship of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood. Amongst them, it is a story almoft still remembered in that country, that he had a particular intimacy with Mr. Combe,

an

an old gentleman noted thereabouts for his wealth and ufury it happened, that in a pleafant conver fation amongst their common friends, Mr. Combe told Shakespeare in a laughing manner, that he fancied he intended to write his epitaph, if he happened to out-live him; and fince he could not know what might be faid of him when he was dead, he defired it might be done immediately: upon which Shakefpeare gave him thefe four verses.

Ten in the hundred lies here engrav'd,

'Tis a hundred to ten his foul is not fav'd: If any man afk, Who lies in this tomb? Ob! ob! quoth the devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe. But the fharpness of the fatire is faid to have ftung the man fo feverely, that he never forgave it

He died in the 53d year of his age, and was buried on the north fide of the chancel, in the great church at Stratford, where a monument, as engraved in the plate, is placed in the wall. On his grave-stone underneath is,

Good friend, for Jesus' fake forbear
To dig the dust inclofed here.

Bleft be the man that spares thefe ftones
And curft be be that moves my bones.

He had three daughters, of which two lived to be married; Judith, the elder, to one Mr. Thomas Quiney, by whom he had three fons, who all died: without children; and Sufannah, who was his favourite, to Dr. John Hall, a phyfician of good reputation in that country. She left one child only, a daughter, who was married firft to Thomas Nafh, efq; and afterwards to Sir John Bernard of Abbington, but died likewife without iffue.

This is what I could learn of any note, either relating to himself or family: the character of the man is best seen in his writings. But fince Ben Jonfon has made